So this past Christmas I got to go home to Kenya again. It was pretty awesome. As I was flying home, I began to ponder about the people who made the trip... let's call it unique. I was pondering this at the time because one of them was sitting right behind me. SO HERE WE GO!
1. The Lady in the Car in Front of Us at Lake Nakuru
We're at Lake Nakuru National Park. It's this great place where we saw flamingos, rhinos, stuff like that. It's one of those beautiful places in the world, the kind that makes you appreciate nature and the amazing things it can do. We were driving through the park in a forested area, and as I'm watching ahead of us, I see a Diet Coke can get tossed out of the passenger side of the car in front of us. Awesome.
Let me be clear: I usually get pretty irritated when people litter in the first place. It's one of those things that immediately tells you a lot about a person's character. Even in the city, where you see trash all over the place, it's still not that hard to just hold onto your garbage for a few more minutes. But this was a national park. A wildlife preserve. The kind of place you go to see the beauty of the natural world, and this spit of a person can't hold an empty Coke can in her car long enough to find a trash can. I wanted to get out, pick up the can, run up to her car and throw it back in her face. I was furious. I don't know whether she was American, European or even Kenyan. But it doesn't matter. You just don't do that.
2. The Waitress at the Cafe at Lake Nakuru
After a good portion of the day photographing flamingos and mud-caked buffalo, we decided to get some lunch before we headed back home. Luckily, there was a cafe next to the souvenir shop at the park. The waitress comes to take our order, and like a good server, repeated our orders to us as we told them to her. Problem was, what she repeated was not what we said.
Me: I'd like a Fanta
Waitress: A water?
Me: ... A Fanta.
Waitress: Ok, so a water.
Me: What? I want a Fanta! Orange flavored, carbonated beverage!
Waitress: All right, broiled chicken breast.
Maybe I'm just picking nits because I'm a server myself and I know what good service is. But I don't think it's just me. Most native Kenyans speak both English and Swahili, as well as their own tribal language. With some of them, you get the feeling that English isn't their forte, and that's ok. Speak whatever language you want. But when your job is to take people's orders and get them food, you should probably understand the language they are speaking. Especially at a tourist location in a country that has English as an official language. I'm just saying. When it's your job to understand people, you should probably make sure you do.
So when she leaves to place our order, we all feel a little nervous about what we'll actually be getting. As I recall, she brought out all the right drinks, except apparently she missed one. So she had to go get another one. Then we get to wait for over an hour for our food. Literally more than an hour. Which would be a little tiny bit excusable if the place was packed with customers, making the cook all backed up in the kitchen. But we were the only people in the restaurant. I mean, did the cook have to catch, kill, and clean the cow before he could make my steak? Then, when we finally get our food, Daniel, who didn't order anything, gets a vegetable pizza put in front of him. And Dad, who ordered chicken, got nothing. He was pretty mad. We were afraid we would have to wait another hour for his food. Luckily (relatively), it came out in about 20 minutes instead. We were afraid the check would have all sorts of random things on it, but that was the one thing the waitress was able to get right. Awesome.
3. The Dude Who For Some Reason Felt that His Luggage Belonged in the Overhead Compartment Half the Plane back from his Seat. Which Was, of Course, Right Above Me.
I think this was on the flight from Nairobi to Amsterdam, but it may have been Amsterdam-Houston. This old guy about fifteen rows ahead of me came and stuck his carry-on luggage into the compartment above my seat. I have no idea why. I don't believe for a second that there was no room anywhere closer to his seat. Now, I can excuse putting your stuff so far away from your seat if you don't plan on using any of it for the duration of the flight. But this guy seriously was coming back to get something out of his bag every half hour or so. I was sitting in an aisle seat, and he was the kind of guy who had to lean all over the person sitting there while he's digging through his bag that he apparently can't have up with him under the seat in front of him. So I get an old guy all up in my space every 30 minutes or so for about eight hours. Awesome.
4. The Kid Sitting Behind Me From Amsterdam to Houston
Ok, parents of small children, listen up!
You may not notice, but your kid loves to kick the back of the seat in front of him. Loves it. He also likes to slouch down on his seat so his butt is hanging off the edge, have the tray down, then push it all the way up with his feet and let it crash down. He loves to do that over and over and over again.
Another thing you may not notice, but the person sitting in front of the kid isn't tickled over your child's activities. In fact, that person in the row ahead probably would like nothing more than to strangle your kid with the in-flight headphones, stuff complimentary roasted almonds down his throat, and stuff him in an overhead bin. Trouble is, there are laws against that kind of thing, so he can't. Or at the very least, he can't get online while on the plane to look up the legal consequences and decide if it would be worth it.
My flight from Amsterdam to Houston was nine and a half hours long. NINE and a HALF. And I do not exaggerate when I say that this kid behind me was kicking my seat for the ENTIRE NINE AND A HALF HOURS. The flight was not crowded, so some of us could spread out a little. I had my whole row on my side to myself. Trouble is, the kicking sort of affected the whole row, so no matter where I sat, I couldn't escape.
The mom at least recognized that it could be bothering me, and yelled at her son on two occasions. Of course, he stopped for a few minutes, long enough to scream and cry at the audacity of his mother to tell him to stop. So either he was kicking my seat, screaming and crying, or both. Awesome.
At least part of it was entertaining. She threatened to slap him silly if he didn't knock it off, and I got to see her actually do it to one of her other kids across the aisle. All three of her kids were fussing and bickering at each other, and while her 10 year old daughter was lying down on the seats across from me, her mom got fed up and started slapping her right there. It was actually kind of hilarious.
